Date: Fri, 16 Jun 2017 02:36:38 +0000 (UTC)
From: J H
Subject: Living Under the Boot of Rick ? Country Boy Domination |Part X
Living Under the Boot of Rick – Country Boy Domination |Part X
Author: JB
jbcountry@yahoo.com
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Part X
Tommy pulled into the barn parking lot to discover that Rick's truck was
there. As Tommy approached the barn door opened and Rick stepped outside.
Rick's demeanor was one of seriousness. He was in full camo wearing camo
jeans and hoodie, heavy camo hunting boots, and a camo Chevy cap turned
backwards.
"I'm here master," Tommy said.
Rick closed the barn doors behind him and said, "I have fucking eyes; get
in."
Without another word Rick got into his truck. Tommy stepped up onto the
back bumper to get into the bed of the truck. He saw a gutted deer laying
in the back along with a lot of trash. Beer cans, water bottles, spit
bottles, food wrappers all littered the bed of the truck. Tommy nestled
down wondering where they were going.
They did not drive far. Rick pulled off the driveway into the open pasture
and to the edge of the woods. It was a cool night; but not as cold as it
had been. The warm sunny day made a pleasant evening. Rick got out of the
truck. Tommy remained seated awaiting instructions.
Rick was not about small talk. He was unbuckling his belt when he
commanded, "Clothes off."
Tommy hesitated for only a few seconds. Rick pulled out his massive cock
and began to shake and stroke it. Tommy pulled off his jacket and t-shirt.
He was taking his sneakers off when Rick shouted, "Let's go faggot! I
ain't got all night!"
Tommy doubled his pace. He had never fully exposed himself to Rick like
this. It was erotic but also scary. In just a few more seconds Tommy was
standing in the bed of Rick's truck with nothing but socks on.
Rick looked at him and said, "Give me your socks."
Tommy did not argue. He pulled his socks off and handed them to Rick.
"Mother fucker when I say get naked; I mean get naked!" With that Rick
took Tommy's socks and flung them into the darkness.
Tommy was completely naked now. Even though it was a warmer autumn night;
Tommy began to get chilled. Rick lowered the tailgate and snapped. He
pointed to the ground saying, "Suck my cock fag."
Tommy slowly hopped down off the tailgate onto the soft, damp ground. He
went to his knees to service Rick's cock. Rick was fidgeting around so
Tommy looked up. He saw Rick removing his right hand from his mouth. He
had just packed his lip with a dip.
"That's good faggot. Keep looking up at your master while you suck my
cock. Eyes open so I can spit in them if I feel teeth."
Tommy moaned at the idea of Rick spitting tobacco spit in his eyes. His
moan was muffled by Rick's fully erect cock filling his mouth. Rick
chuckled. After a few minutes of sucking on Rick's shaft Rick pulled out
and patted the tailgate.
"Up," was all he said as if he was giving a command to a dog.
Tommy pulled himself back up into the truck. The coarse spray bed liner
was painful on his knees.
"Lay on your stomach; I'm gonna fuck your hole." Rick commanded. Tommy
gently obeyed working around the trash and dead deer. He was on all fours
moving some trash out of his way when his legs were jerked out from under
him. Tommy grunted but before he could complain Rick pulled Tommy toward
him where his legs hung off the tailgate. Tommy's dick and balls grated
against the bed liner as Rick pulled him back. He cried out in pain.
Before Tommy knew it Rick's jock cock was jammed inside of him. No lube.
Not even spit. Rick drove his weapon in without warning. Regular,
forceful thrusts caused Tommy to whimper. Rick was grudge fucking him but
good. Tommy couldn't help but to assess his situation. His naked body was
mixed into the trash of Rick's truck. He laid next to Rick's latest kill.
Rick's dick was tearing into his ass like a bulldozer. Tommy realized that
Rick was sending him a message loud and clear. He belonged to him and no
one else. Then one, no two, three hard slaps on and around Tommy's naked
ass generated more pain. The sting of each was intense enough that Tommy
knew they would leave hand prints. Tommy moaned in pain and delight. The
next thing Tommy felt was Rick's large hands grasping his throat. Rick
pulled Tommy's body toward Rick's invading cock. Tommy whimpered some more
but Rick gave no signs of letting up.
Finally Tommy felt Rick's grip tighten and with one last thrust Rick
stopped. Rick's cock deep inside of Tommy exploded filling him with a load
of man seed. After several shots of cum filled Tommy, Rick released
Tommy's throat. Rick pulled his weapon from Tommy's raw ass and stepped up
into the truck bed. Tommy started to get up but Rick stepped on his back
with his full weight forcing Tommy back down. Tommy groaned and then the
heel of Rick's other boot landed directing in front of his face. It nearly
clipped his nose. Rick's other boot followed and Tommy watched as Rick
turned around. Tommy now saw both of Rick's hunting boots inches from his
face so he lean forward and kissed the toe of the closest boot.
"Clean my cock faggot," Rick commanded.
Following Rick's orders Tommy pushed himself back onto his knees and began
to suck clean Rick's cock. The familiar taste of Rick's cum was once again
on his palate. When Tommy was done Rick said, "Lay back down." Once again
Tommy laid down in the trash of Rick's truck. Rick sat on the edge of the
truck bed and propped his boots on Tommy's naked back. Tommy was getting
cold but he dare not complain. Rick was punishing Tommy and he knew it.
Rick pulled out his phone and casually looked through his social apps.
Occasionally Rick spit his tobacco spittle on Tommy's back and rub the
bottoms and sides of his hunting boots in it.
Eventually Tommy felt the heavy boots pull from his back. Rick stood up
and carefully planted his right boot on the side of Tommy's head forcing it
to the bed. One of the boot's cleats dug into his ear.
"It hurts," Tommy pleaded.
"Shut up faggot," Rick barked. Another wad of spit hit Tommy's forehead.
"You will learn your place. I have been too easy on you. Consider
yourself warned!"
Tommy did not say anything. He figured it would be best if he didn't.
Rick remained in that position for longer than Tommy had expected. The
silence made it seem like an eternity. Finally Tommy felt a little more
pressure from Ricks boot but it only lasted a moment.
Rick removed his boot from Tommy's head and said, "Put your fucking clothes
on cunt." Then Rick hopped off the truck over the side of the bed. Tommy
was cold and a little disoriented. This session was surprising more brutal
than most. Tommy managed to get his jeans and t-shirt back on when the
truck started. He flung his jacket on and hunkered down in the truck bed.
The ride back to the barn was quick. Tommy braced himself for the ride.
Each bump in the road jarred Tommy. Rick was not taking it easy
off-roading.
When they returned to the barn the truck came to a quick stop. "Out" was
the only word that Rick barked at Tommy. Tommy quickly climbed the
tailgate and gingerly lowered himself to the asphalt parking lot. He was
bare footed and held his tennis shoes in his hands. The backing lights
came on so Tommy hurried out of the way. Before he knew it the truck was
gone.
`He's pissed,' Tommy thought to himself and he went home.
Sunday morning Tommy was scheduled to work morning and afternoon. He awoke
early to prepare the barn for the boarders who were sure to come after
lunch. His mother was eating breakfast in the kitchen when he came in from
his room.
"Hey honey," his mom said sleepily.
"Hey mom. What are you doing up? You should sleep in on your day off."
His mom chuckled and said, "My body is all screwed up from shift work."
"How is all that going? Any hopes of going on day shift?" Tommy asked.
"I doubt it," his mom replied somberly, "In fact, there is talk about a
layoff and I am a recent hire. Your uncle is trying to ensure I stay on.
Please don't upset our boss. We need him happy with us. By the way, how
is your job at the stable going? Teddy says your dependable and doing a
good job."
"I do everything they tell me to," Tommy replied a little defeated.
"That's a good boy," his mom commented. "Oh that reminds me."
"What?" Tommy asked.
"Teddy is having a picnic next Saturday. Since we both work for him he
invited us. I need you to go and help me make a good impression."
"Saturday?" Tommy questioned, "I'm supposed to go fishing next Saturday."
"Thomas," his mother said sternly, "We live in fucking Georgia. You can go
fishing any time you want. Saturday we need to go to this shindig. Trust
me; I can think of a million things I'd rather do too on my day off."
Tommy huffed.
"We're going; end of discussion."
Tommy got up from the table abruptly.
"Where are you going?"
"Work," he snapped, "It's what we have to do."
Tommy drove to the barn. Sunday mornings are typically quiet. Tommy fed
the horses and cleaned the stalls before anyone showed up. Despite the
nice weekend, nobody was at the barn by the time Tommy finished up. He was
about to go home for a while when his phone buzzed with a text from Billy,
`clean my saddle b there soon.'
"Mother-fuck!" Tommy shouted nearly slinging his phone down the hallway.
That last thing Tommy wanted was to deal with Billy. However feeling as
though he had no choice; he decided to hurry. Perhaps he could get it
clean and be gone by the time Billy arrived.
Tommy hurried to the tack room and retrieved Billy's large western saddle.
It looked very expensive. He grabbed a saddle stand and set up his task.
After collecting a few rags and some leather cleaner he polished the
saddle; careful not to slick up the stirrups as he did once before. There
was dried horse sweat under the saddle and on the billets. He polished
quickly and after a short inspection, Tommy could finally leave. He was
too late. He heard Billy's four-wheeler pull into the parking lot. Tommy
surprised himself when fear rushed in. He ducked into a stall. Shortly
after he heard Billy and another boy walking down the barn hallway. Tommy
crouched down out of sight when the two boys walked by.
"Yeah, I like the bigger engine on the quad but nothing beats my dirt
bike," Billy said walking toward his horse Nicker.
"I wish I still had my dirt bike," his friend said.
"I remember when your mom made you sell it. That sucks!"
"Yeah it did. Hey, where is that boot boy you said worked here?"
Tommy frowned hearing that comment.
"Hey boot licker!" Billy yelled and awaited a response. Tommy said
nothing.
The boys were standing at Nicker's stall looking around.
"I guess he's getting some hay or some shit like that." Billy said, "The
fucker better have polished my saddle."
"I can't believe he's your slave. I wish I had a slave to clean my room
and shit."
"It's a sweet deal," Billy commented, "Dumbass thinks I have a video of him
whacking off in Tank's stall."
"He does? Do you?"
"Nah," Billy confessed, "I saw him yanking his little dick but the video
wouldn't take. It was too dark."
"What an idiot!"
Tommy was furious. How could he be so stupid to think that Billy could
have recorded a clear video from a distance in a stall with low light?
Billy led Nicker from his stall to the wash rack. He went into the tack
room and came out carrying his saddle.
"The bitch polished my saddle," he reported to his friend. "I told you he
would."
"Nice. You should make him clean it everyday"
"That's not a bad idea." Billy replied. "I wonder where the bitch is."
"Probably hiding from you."
"Probably."
Tommy felt ashamed that they were right. He was hiding from them. A
senior in high school hiding from two middle school punks. He tried to get
the nerve up to appear and say something like, `no video huh? Fuck you
then!' He wanted to badly. Billy had made him taste horse shit, lay in
horse piss, polish his saddle, lick his boots, and who knows what else.
But he knew he couldn't. He did not possess the balls it would take to
stand up to a kid like Billy. Kid? What was he thinking? Next to Tommy,
Billy was twice the man he was.
After the two left the barn with Nicker Tommy snuck out of the stall. He
figured Billy would see him from the riding ring; but he would be too busy
impressing his buddy with his great horsemanship. He was wrong.
As he opened his car door he heard Billy yell, "Hey boot boy."
Tommy sat down in his car pretending not hear Billy but he rode quickly to
the edge of the riding ring and yelled, "Get your ass over here. Now!"
"Fuck," Tommy mumbled under his breath. He smacked the steering wheel and
exited his car.
As he approached the riding ring Billy said, "You don't ignore me boot
boy!"
Billy's friend snickered.
"Sorry sir, I didn't hear you."
"Whatever. Get in here."
Billy's friend had walked close and leaned on the rail. He was tall and
lean. He looked like a basketball player. Tommy climbed over the rail and
approached Billy as instructed. He feared what may happen next.
"Show my buddy Brandon how you show respect and obey me. Kneel."
Tommy decided he would take a stand. He would tell Rick's sadistic little
brother to go `fuck himself' and his fake video. He would deny it all.
Then a cold sweat came over Tommy. He took a deep breath and the next
thing Tommy knew was he was on his knees. He didn't say a word. He was
just programmed to obey. Fuck!
Billy circled around him a couple of times on Nicker getting closer and
closer with each pass. He finally stopped with Nicker's side directly in
front of him. Tommy's face was nearly level with Billy's left stirrup.
"You know what to do bitch; kiss it."
Tommy leaned forward and reluctantly kissed the side of Billy's boot
sticking out from his stirrup.
"What a bitch," Brandon said with a laugh.
Billy smiled and made a figure eight pass returning to Tommy with his right
boot near his face. Billy didn't even have to ask. Tommy kissed that boot
too. Brandon snickered.
"That's a good bitch. Now, get out of here."
Tommy stood up and Billy smacked him on the top of the head. Nicker
spooked but Billy settled him back down. Tommy instinctively returned to
his knees. The smack hurt. It was much more powerful than Tommy expected.
"What are you doing faggot. Men are present! Leave on your knees!"
Billy and Brandon watched as Tommy shuffled through the ground on his
knees. He was mortified but could muster no courage. When he made it back
to the rail he ducked under to leave. Brandon had walked over to intersect
him during his shameful exit.
"Show respect to me too," Brandon said. He didn't have the confidence in
his voice that Billy had but he was standing and Tommy was still on his
knees. Tommy hesitated.
"Do it!" Billy commanded.
Tommy looked down at Brandon's feet. He was booted too. By now Tommy
figured all guys were born with boots in this part of the state. But
Brandon's height meant a large boot. They looked huge but that could have
been because Brandon wore his boots on the outside of his jeans. Tommy
leaned down and kissed Brandon's right boot and then his left.
"This is awesome," Brandon said. "Do it again."
`What the fuck,' Tommy thought but he repeated the process.
"Lay down so Brandon can clean his boots," Billy commanded. Tommy looked
over and Billy had ridden up to the rail.
Tommy laid on his back flat. He hoped that no one else would arrive during
this humiliation.
"Go ahead," Billy said, "Clean your boots."
At first Brandon gently wiped them on Tommy's jacket. The damp ground
mixed with the barn dust meant visible streaks of dirt as Brandon wiped his
boot bottoms on Tommy's jacket. As he became more comfortable the swipes
were harder as Brandon rotated between boots.
"There ya go," Billy said watching amused.
Tommy looked up and Brandon was smiling. By now he was twisting his foot
to wipe the sides of his boots. When he was done Brandon held his right
boot bottom to his lips.
"Kiss the bottom," he said more aggressively through gritted teeth. Tommy
did.
Brandon switched and held his left boot to Tommy's face a little farther
away. When Tommy reached forward to kiss it Brandon pulled his boot out of
reach.
"Want it," he said lowering the boot back down to Tommy's face.
Tommy leaned forward again but Brandon pulled away again.
"Try harder," he said laughing.
Tommy laid his head back down and then the boot landed on his lips. Tommy
was afraid Brandon busted it. Tommy couldn't kiss it because it was
already pressed hard against his lips.
"There ya go boot boy," Brandon said with much more confidence.
After his was done amusing himself, Brandon slowly pulled his boot down
towards Tommy's neck. It grabbed Tommy's lower lip wiping part of the
bottom inside of his mouth.
"Have a taste," Brandon said laughing.
Billy laughed too and said, "Boot boy loves his job! Now get on out of
here and don't forget to polish my saddle tonight. It better be fucking
spotless!"
"Yeah. Now get the fuck out of here," Brandon said.
Tommy returned to his knees and scurried toward the parking lot. He tried
not to hear the middle school terror's snickering at him. When he got to
the paved parking lot he stood up and made a quick dash to his car. He was
holding back tears as he drove down the driveway. He looked down at his
jacket. It was filthy from the dirt on Brandon's boots. He hoped his
mother was not home when he got there.
Anger welled up inside of him. He whipped his car off the road into the
breakdown lane. Before he could change his mind he pulled out his phone
and texted Billy, `I know there is no video clean your saddle yourself I'm
not your bitch you dick.' He hit send. At first he was proud, then
anxious, and finally terrified. It all seemed ridiculous. What was he
afraid of? Sure Rick was a jock god; protective of his little brother.
But how much would Billy even tell him; if anything?
Tommy's phoned buzzed with a text. He paused; nervous to read it. It was
from Billy. It read, `u fucked up!!!!!!!!!!!!' Immediately Tommy wished
he had not sent the text. What the hell was he thinking?
On the way to school the following morning Tommy was groggy. He got no
sleep. He kept reading Billy's text over and over. He wanted to reply but
didn't. He typed out several apology texts but deleted them all. He
decided he would call in sick to work; faking a stomach issue after school.
He could not afford to quit his job; but a day off might allow Billy to
cool down.
At lunch Tommy ate alone. He wanted to talk to Ben but he was eating at
the jock's table. Tommy found himself glancing in that direction often.
Ben was sitting next to Rick. They were laughing. Tommy wished he could
hear the conversation. His paranoia made him wonder if they were laughing
about him.
During the last ten minutes of lunch Tommy looked over at the jock table
once more and was surprised to see Rick walking towards him. The look on
Rick's face was not pleasant. Tommy was becoming accustomed to the Rick
`pissed-off' look. Tommy gulped at what he might say.
Rick sat in the chair next to Tommy and leaned in close. Rick was wearing
jeans and a tight cotton shirt that cling to his muscles. He had a dip in
Rick greeted Tommy by spitting on Tommy's shirt. Tommy was getting
accustomed to wearing dip spit too.
Rick growled, "Care to explain this text I got from my little brother?"
Rick stared Tommy down. Tommy feared he might land a punch at any moment.
His arms hung loose between his legs.
"Rick," Tommy gulped, "I think there something you shou..."
"Don't give a fuck about what you think," Rick interrupted, "Did you tell
Billy you wouldn't clean his saddle and call him a dick; yes or no?"
"Yes, but ..."
"Still not giving a fuck," Rick snapped. He sat up straight in the chair
and crossed his powerful arms. "Okay then. Be at the barn tonight at 8.
We will talk about this then." Rick stood up; his chest swelled and
testosterone oozed from his pores as he walked away.
`Fuck me,' Tommy thought, `So much for calling in sick.'
At 7:45 that evening Tommy cringed as Rick's truck pulled into the barn
parking lot. He heard two truck doors close. He looked as Rick and Billy
walked into the barn. They went straight to Tommy who was standing in the
hallway. Billy's saddle was on a saddle stand and it was polished to a
shine. There was a pause for a moment. Tommy decided to speak. He
couldn't stand the silence.
"Look," Tommy said, "I'm sorry I was such a dick to you Billy..."
"Shut up boot boy," Billy snapped. He looked at Rick for his approval.
Rick nodded and Billy continued, "Apologize to me proper; on your knees!"
Tommy sighed and knelt before Billy and said, "I am sorry sir. It will
never happen again."
Billy bitch slapped Tommy hard across the face. The force knocked Tommy
over. He caught himself with his right arm before going all the way down.
Billy kicked his arm out from under him and Tommy fell completely to the
ground. A cold, dirty boot planted on his neck. Billy's right boot held
him to the ground. From Tommy's vantage point he could only see Billy's
left boot. He could feel the boot on his neck tremble with most of Billy's
weight forcing him onto the ground.
"I could kill this mother fucker," Billy said to his brother.
"He does need a lesson," Rick replied.
"Like crushing his neck?" Billy asked.
"That's a little too harsh." Rick answered, "Besides, how can he serve us
with a crushed neck? He needs a lesson in respect."
Billy looked down at Tommy. His face was turning blue from a lack of
oxygen. Billy removed his boot from his neck and ordered, "Get up
asshole."
Tommy coughed a couple of times and slowly stood back up. He had no idea
what to expect but he knew; whatever it was, it wouldn't be good.
"Yeah," Billy said, "I'll teach him respect." Billy unbuckled his belt and
pulled it off of his jeans. He doubled the belt over and held it in one
hand. "Turn around."
Tommy took a deep breath and turned as instructed. He had brought this
upon himself.
"Wait," Rick said, "Drop your jeans faggot."
"Yeah," Billy concurred.
Tommy slowly dropped his jeans. Fear welled up inside of him. He was
about to be belt whipped by a middle school man. He understood that he
deserved this. How could he be so disrespectful to his superiors?
The first strap across his ass was intense. Tommy grimaced and yelped.
The second, third, and fourth were equally brutal but the fifth landed
across the back of his thighs. They were cold from exposure and he was
unprepared for it. Tommy jumped away and cried, "Please, no more!"
"Tell me thank you for the lesson," Billy ordered.
"Thank you sir." Tommy quickly said.
"You're welcome boot boy," Billy smiled, "Now turn back around for more!"
Tommy whimpered and turned back around.
"Tell me `thank you' after each lick," Billy said sadistically. Billy
paused for a second and then landed his strap.
Tommy yelped again and said, "Thank you."
Billy enjoyed this; Tommy could tell. After each lash Tommy would cry out,
"Thank you." After another six or seven licks Tommy's expressions of
gratitude was barely audible. He could feel the whelps grow on his sore
ass and legs. Billy was relentless.
Finally Billy stopped and said, "Turn around mother fucker."
Tommy turned around. Billy gripped his belt firmly in his right hand.
Rick was standing next to Billy with his arms crossed; his lip was swelled
with a dip.
Rick spit in his direction and said, "Go on; thank him proper now. Clean
my baby bros boots up for him."
Billy smiled and said, "Spit shine them good boy!"
Tommy gingerly prostrated himself before Billy. He looked up. Billy still
had his belt in hand and was smiling triumphantly.
Billy's boots were dirty. They had dried mud around the sides and they
were covered in dust.
Tommy began licking; swiping the dusty boot top. His mouth filled with
dirt from the dust. Billy made no effort to reposition them. He stood in
the same spot like a statue with his belt in hand. Tommy had to work
around his posture. It was slow progress cleaning the dried mud on the
sides. Then he felt the belt again. It was no longer doubled over. Billy
used its full length to make good contact on his butt and back.
"Faster," Billy commanded.
Tommy licked faster. This time using his teeth to scrape the mud off the
boot sides. As he serviced Billy's boots he felt pressure and pain in his
right hand. Rick was standing on it with his full weight.
"You heard him," Rick growled, "Faster!"
Once again Tommy felt he had reached an all new level of subhuman. Between
licking boots, the intermittent lash of Billy's belt, Rick's boot crushing
his hand, and the dip spit hitting the back of his head and back, Tommy was
being reminded of his place among men.
As Tommy was finishing Billy's boots he felt the pressure ease off of his
hand.
"Okay Billy boy," Rick said, "We gotta get home."
"Roger that," Billy said. He kicked some dust in Tommy's face and
snickered.
As they left neither one acknowledged Tommy's existence. They just turned
to leave like he was some boot licking machine. Tommy did not get up. He
would wait until they were gone. As he watched them leave he saw Billy
stop and look back.
"Hey Thomas," Billy said mocking Ben, "Are you going to clean my saddle for
me tomorrow night?"
"Yes sir," Tommy answered softly.
"What was that?" Rick asked harshly.
"Yes sir," Tommy yelled affirmatively.
"You better faggot," Rick snarled. Then Rick and Billy left. He could
hear Billy snicker at something Rick said to him. The two shared a fist
bump and then they were gone.
Tommy just laid on the ground. He didn't move for several minutes after
they left. He disgusted himself because he was rock hard and wished that
Rick had fucked his skull before they left. Even after all the abuse Tommy
longed for Rick's pipe!